Chapter 5: Miles

Rejection is a foreign concept to me.

Growing up a prince has its perks, one of them being that I’ve never wanted for anything. I can ask for just about everything and have my request granted. One can imagine my surprise when Lisabet said no. I have to respect her wishes, of course, but that doesn’t stop a flicker of annoyance and confusion from building in my chest.

Why would she say no?

It doesn’t make any sense.

I pace around my private study, mulling things over. I’ve technically got a number of formal declarations and policy proposals to go through on behalf of Father, but I’ve been too preoccupied with thoughts of Lisabet to make a dent in my to-do list. I know I should get to work. The King’s been pushing more and more of his responsibilities onto me in preparation for the day when I inevitably take over, but the urgency just isn’t there. Policies regarding an increase to public education funding can wait for another hour or two.

I’ve got more pressing matters to deal with.

I can’t remember the last time I was this disappointed. I was fully expecting to sweep Lisabet off her feet, especially after the strings Caroline had to pull. My matchmaker apparently had to phone up the orchestra, and after almost an hour on hold, managed to get in contact with the representative in charge of all their scheduling. It was no small feat to get them to stop by Oxland before their tour of Europe and Asia. Of course, dropping my name certainly helped in the decision process.

I call Caroline up, realizing only after the first two ring tones that it’s probably around midnight where she is.

“Hello?” she answers, a bit groggy.

“It’s me.”

“Prince Miles!” she gasps. “Oh, uh, hold on.” There’s bit of shuffling on the other end of the line.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Oh, no. Just getting ready for bed. How can I help you, Prince Miles?”

I sigh. “I saw Lisabet.”

Even though I can’t see Caroline’s face, I can practically hear the reserved hesitation in her silence.

“And how did that go?” she asks carefully. “Not good, by the sounds of it.”

“She declined my offer to ask her out,” I explain. “I’m having a hard time understanding it.”

“Not that I don’t have faith in your judgement, Your Royal Highness, but I must admit I didn’t think it would work out. Especially considering her history.”

I frown. “Her history?”

Caroline exhales slowly. “It’s nothing nefarious, I promise. Otherwise, I would have been totally against you trying to see her.”

“Please elaborate, Miss Raines.”

I hear the shuffling of a few papers. “Lisabet Thompson’s from a lower-middle income family. Nothing too scandalous there. But she’s recently divorced and apparently drowning in debt. I think the Oxlandian press would have a field day if they found out.”

“Is she a criminal?” I ask flatly.

“No. As far as I can tell, she’s got a clean record.”

“Does she abuse drugs or alcohol?”

“Uh, no?”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, Miss Raine. So what if she’s divorced? And so what if she’s in debt? Fifty percent of marriages in the United States end in divorce, you know.”

Caroline hums. “I’m a matchmaker. I’m more than aware of the statistics.”

“The circumstances of her birth mean very little to me, Miss Raines. I’m of the mind that everybody deserves a chance at love.”

“Are you sure you want to postpone your meeting with Lady Ainsley? She comes from a very prestigious family and a refined background. I’m sure your father would approve of the match instantly.”

I sit back in my office chair and think about Lisabet standing at my doorway. The cool black of her eyes. How tired she looks. How small she looks standing behind her cello case like it’s some kind of shield.

“How much debt are we talking?” I ask.

Claire clears her throat. “I’m afraid I don’t have those details, Prince Miles. I only know that she’s facing some financial troubles.”

“As a result of frivolous spending or because of this recent divorce?”

“I’m not too sure.”

“What do we know about the ex?”

More paper shuffling. “May I ask why you want to know, Prince Miles? Lisabet’s already established she’s not interested.”

Caroline has a point. Lisabet told me to my face that she doesn’t want to get involved. I think by telling me of her past, Caroline was hoping to turn me off.

But I’m only more intrigued.

There’s just something about her. I don’t think I’ve had a full night’s sleep since meeting her. I can tell she’s harboring secrets, protecting herself beneath a mask of unassuming quietness.

There’s a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I order.

Tobias steps forth, a silver platter balanced in his left hand. He’s got a fresh pot of coffee, along with a small dish of pastries for me to enjoy.

“Straight from the kitchen, Your Royal Highness. As requested.”

“I didn’t request anything,” I point out.

“As requested by her Majesty the Queen,” he explains. “She wanted me to remind you to eat while you’re,” Tobias glances at my unfinished paperwork, “hard at work.”

“Set it on my desk. You’re excused.”

“Oh, am I interrupting your call?” Tobias asks, not at all as subtle as I think he’s being.

“Yes.”

“With whom, may I ask? I don’t recall scheduling any important business calls for today.”

“It’s a private matter,” I state quickly. “You’re dismissed.”

Tobias strokes the end of his moustache, observing me for a moment longer. After a few seconds, he bows his head and leaves, shutting the door behind him. I keep my voice low just in case he remains on the other side in an attempt to eavesdrop. I honestly wouldn’t put it past him if it means providing more information about me to the King.

Privacy doesn’t exist here.

“I need to go,” I say to Caroline. “Will you forward me her contact information directly?”

“Lisabet? Are you sure?”

“It’s what I want.”

“Very well. I’ll send you an email right now.”

“Thank you. Have a good sleep.”

I hang up and stare at the ceiling, not quite numb to everything, but certainly getting there. It’s been a long day, and the pile of work I still have to get through is intimidating, staring me down and demanding to know when I’ll finally get to it.

I turn on my laptop, which has been sitting patiently on my desk all day. It opens up to the last tab I had open, an article about Jamieson’s deposition. I haven’t talked to the guy in years, but I’m still empathetic to his cause. News of the coup in Credonia has been lighting up international outlets for weeks now. I feel almost guilty that my old friend’s on the run, while I’m living it up in the safety and luxury of my family’s palace. I’d call him to ask if there’s anything he needs, but Father made it perfectly clear that extending a helping hand would implicate the Oxlandian crown.

We can’t involve ourselves in their affairs.

We have to look out for ourselves first.

Jamieson’s only a year older than myself, which might explain why his situation troubles me so much. We used to spend our summers together, growing up side by side. The fact that I can’t even reach out to make sure he’s alive is unsettling.

But I know what Father would say.

The Crown must come first. Matters of the heart second. Always.

I sometimes wonder how he came to be this way. My grandfather was a kind man and beloved king, one the people adored and venerated. My father rates perfectly average in popularity polls, though I’m sure he’d argue that it hardly matters. As long as his people are fed and the Oxlandian economy keeps running and we aren’t dragged into a war we have no means of fighting, King Albert is happy to keep to his laissez-faire tactics.

My laptop dings, a little pop-up notification coming into view on the lower righthand corner of the screen.

New Email! Caroline Raines.

My heart skips a beat. Father may be an emotionless robot, but I’m the furthest thing from it.

I know what I want, and what I want is to see Lisabet again. Maybe the circumstances weren’t right. Each time that I’ve met her, there’s always been a crowd. First the party guests at the mixer, now her colleagues with the orchestra. It doesn’t help that she has to go on tour, and maybe that’s something at the top of her mind. It’s difficult to get to know a person when they have to leave shortly thereafter.

I know there’s something here.

I just need another chance.

I open Caroline’s email and get to planning.